Knight and Princess of Evil
by DCflame
Summary: Princess Rue has ordered her brother, the Knight, to kill the Maiden who the White Prince loves - But she doesn't know that the Knight is also in love with the Maiden. The Knight carries out the order, but at the cost of breaking his own heart. Likewise, the White Prince swears revenge... What end will come of this tragedy? Please review and, if you like, follow.
1. I Loved Her Too

"You will protect her."

"I have no choice."

"You love her."

His gloved hand clenched the dagger.

"Haven't you ever wondered why?" His friend asked. His expression was stoic, but the tears running down his face paradoxed it.

He did not answer. The blade of the dagger dug into his hand. Had he not been wearing the glove, the blade surely would have sliced his palm.

"But I understand." His friend looked up and smiled slightly.

_No, don't smile. Don't act calm!_ He screamed in his head. _I just killed her, the one you love. Take the dagger from my hand. Kill me! Avenge her! Because –_

A tear ran down the Knight's cheek. _I loved her too._

His friend brushed his white bangs back, leaving spots of blood on his forehead and the locks of pure hair. He reached forward with trembling arms and drew the beautiful corpse into his arms. "I understand… why you did it. Because the Princess ordered you too, and you love her. And yet…" His friend looked up again, and the Knight's heart broke when he saw the rising resentment in them.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you for it!" His voice broke, and he lowered his face into her hair. The luscious pink hair hid his expression, but the shaking of his shoulders betrayed him.

The tears wouldn't stop streaming down the Knight's face. They dripped, one by one, off his chin and onto the stained floorboards. He grit his teeth, trying to hold back his sorrow, and sheathed the dagger. _I loved her too!_

The Knight turned and left without looking back.

The White Prince was left mourning the slain Pink Maiden's body.

She was waiting atop the highest tower when he finally returned. He was weary and weak, drained; but she turned to him and asked regardless. "Did you do it?"

The solemnity in her red eyes was out of character. Her dark hair spilled about her shoulders as she let down her bun.

He bowed his head in the shadows to hide his tears. He forced himself to straighten his voice. "Yes."

She really looked at him then. "I know it was difficult, but…" She went to him. "Thank you, brother." She took his hand.

_You take my hand like we're still young…. Like we're still children…. Like you didn't just order me to kill the one I loved, and out of petty jealousy. You chase after the Prince, and…_

_You killed her._

"It's good that she's gone, though, don't you know? I will wed the Prince now that the Maiden is out of the way. The kingdoms will combine, and… the Prince will finally be mine." She strolled along the glass walls of the tower, staring out absently at the kingdom. "There was no room for that swan." The Princess plucked a rose from a nearby vase of flowers. "The Prince is mine. She should've known that. Her ignorance cost her her life." She shred the rose coldly. "Farewell, Pink Maiden."

The Knight's tears did not stop.

_Farewell, Pink Maiden._

The Princess turned back to look at her brother. She froze when she saw that the tears had not stopped. Her expression fell into one of regret.

"I'm sorry, brother. But… isn't there another maiden you'd rather have?"

_No, none. Only her. My Maiden… The Maiden that danced, that the swans followed about the village, that had charmed the Prince unconsciously and died for it._

"I will find you another, my Knight." She grabbed his hands and held them tight in her own smaller grasp. "I will, I swear."

He looked up at her. The Prince's words echoed through his head.

"_You will protect her. You love her. Haven't you ever wondered why?"_

_Because she is the Princess… and I am the servant._

"_I understand… why you did it. Because the Princess ordered you too, and you love her. And yet…"_

"_I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you for it!"_

The Knight's head remained bowed. _My friend and the love of my life are both gone._

"Come, Knight. Would a snack make you feel better?" The Princess smiled tentatively at him.

"There's something I must tell you," he whispered hoarsely. The Princess's smile froze, her eyes wide.

"What is it?"

"The Prince… walked in. He saw. He saw… the Maiden lying there." The Knight's voice finally broke. His hand went to cover his eyes, to hide his tears. "And he knew why I'd done it. Because…"

The Princess's face grew pale.

"Because you ordered me to."

Her head bowed as well. There was a long, tense moment of silence.

"And… what did he say?" Her voice trembled.

"That he would never forgive me." The Knight's voice wavered. "He… He was my friend, sister."

The Princess burst into tears then. His lovely sister that could do no harm, that loved snacks and could dance beautifully, that could turn her presence from fire into ice and back… That had ordered him to murder the love of his life… She fell to her knees and wept bitterly.

The Knight crouched next to her and tilted her chin up. "Don't cry, sister. I… I will protect you."

"Protect me?" Her tear stained face was confused. "What do you mean?"

The look in the Prince's eyes when he'd held the Maiden… The Knight finally realized that the resentment was not just towards himself, and neither were his words.

"_I understand… why you did it. And yet… I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you for it!"_

The Prince wanted revenge against the Princess.

The Knight would not allow it. The Prince knew that.

And just like that, the last fragments of the Knight's heart were torn to shreds. The Prince would attempt to kill the Princess, he realized. And the Knight would protect the Princess.

The Prince was willing to kill the Knight to get to the Princess. He wanted them both dead.

"I will not allow it. I will protect you." The Knight gathered the Princess into his arms. "No matter what I must do."

"You are the princess, and I am the servant."

The Knight's words sunk in, and the Princess began to weep bitterly again, holding tight to him. For now they both realized what would happen.

_You are the princess, and I am the servant._

* * *

Inspired by the Servant of Evil song by Kagamine Len. Check it out.

This story follows the concept that the Princess, Rue, has ordered her brother, Fakir, her Knight, to murder the Pink Maiden, Tutu. She does this because the White Prince, Mytho, loves the Maiden - but Rue loves the Prince and wants him to herself. However, her brother also loves the Maiden...

But in the end, he will follow his sister's wishes.

I put Fakir as Rue's brother because it is a long-standing theory that the two are actually siblings. There's no concrete proof, but among the cues are the fact that Fakir's mother had hair very, very similar to Rue's and on the family tree Autor shows Fakir there is a sibling of Fakir's that is crossed out. Hm...

But I still ship the two. Heheheh. Oh, well.

I might add onto this. Enjoy!

In response to SoSaysL's review: Actually, not even close lol But good guess, I suppose. After all... What's the point of a story with a predictable ending?


	2. Clocktowers and Contingency Plans

"You are sure your memory is clear?" The Knight's back was turned to the tall woman sitting at the table. He gazed out the window at the moonlit land.

"Yes." The woman adjusted her shawl. "I am quite certain."

The Knight's voice was hushed. "They say you are never wrong."

"And they will use that." The lady's stoic purple eyes rose to the Knight. "You must be prepared, Knight Fakir."

He turned to her. "I am."

"Are you?" Those emotionless purple eyes didn't blink. "I saw the price of this insolence long ago. My visions do not change. They plan to call me as a witness."

"We will send you away, then. They will not find you."

The lady was silent then. The Knight waited for a reply, but she did not answer. He looked at her in puzzlement. "Lady Edel?"

"There is only one way for this to end," she whispered. A single tear caught the moonlight on her white face.

The Knight's back stiffened. Lady Edel had seen so many things, had had so many visions, that she never cried anymore. She'd become an emotionless vessel, her feelings lost in the tide of overwhelming pessimism. But now, for her to cry – it made the Knight feel hopeless once more.

"I am sorry. I cannot allow myself to be taken as a witness." Edel rose from her chair. "I have told what I know; I leave it up to you what you do with the knowledge."

"We can offer you protection."

"Not for long. The events coming cannot be halted. The future continues to fall into place, with only one path certain. There are those who would kill to claim me. I cannot allow it…" Her eyes became stoic once more. "I cannot allow it. I will not allow it."

The Lady made her way slowly to the doorway. As she reached for the doorknob, she paused and turned slightly back to the Knight. "I will do what I can to help you."

The Knight turned back to the window, his arms crossed behind him. He bit his lip; the stinging had returned to his eyes. Lady Edel had been their consultant for so long, and he had begun to think of her as a sort of guiding figure. She was someone to turn to for advice. A surrogate for his and Rue's own distant mother, who was long dead. And now… "Thank you, Lady Edel."

She left.

"Brother." The Princess spoke to him softly that evening as he set her plate before her. "I hear you spoke with Lady Edel today."

He tensed. "Yes."

The Princess smoothed her cloth napkin onto her lap. "What did you talk about?"  
The Knight carefully poured her some tea. "About the vision she saw when we were young."

The Princess's hand halted inches from her mouth, her grip on the teacup tightening. "That? Why?"

"I just… wanted to be sure."

"Of what she saw?" The Princess took a long, shaking gulp of the tea. "We both know that by heart, though. When I was just three years old, and you five…" Rue's eyes got a far away look. "She came by our mother's request…"

Even then, the fact that Rue would inherit the throne hadn't needed to be said. Fakir had, after all, been illegitimate – conceived before the Queen had even been engaged to the King with some unnamed lover. It was widely speculated that the Head of the Royal Guard, who had died years ago in battle during a failed coupe and bore a striking resemblance to Fakir, was his father. But the Queen had to marry a royal, and so when Rue was born to the newly wed Queen and King, she became heir to the throne. Fakir wasn't miffed at all by that turn of events – it was really all he'd ever known. Instead, he trained and practiced and swore to become his sister's protector – her Knight. Fakir's gaze grew unfocused as well, remembering his childhood…

"…and she read our future. I can still see her expression – so blank, yet so focused… She's truly a mystifying woman." Rue set her teacup down, the wistful hint in her tone disappearing. "And she said that I would make a terrifying ruler…"

The Knight bent and refilled her teacup, letting his bangs fall over his face so his sister wouldn't see his darkening expression. He dreaded hearing her recount this part out loud.

"… and she said that I would die because of my actions as ruler." Rue blinked and turned away from the table. She mashed her lips together, then turned back to her dinner and lifted her fork.

Fakir could find nothing to say. There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do, to change any of it. Instead, he leaned silently against the wall and watched his sister eat. It was not proper for the Knight to eat with the Princess, but Rue finally looked up when she realized he would not join her. "Wouldn't you like something to eat?"

"No. I'm not hungry."

His words sunk in. Then Rue let out a shaky laugh. "I can't blame you." Her fork clattered and shook against her plate, and she kept laughing. Fakir's blood became chilled as her laughter grew into one of near hysteria. He was about to start for her when there was an urgent knock at the door.

Rue's laughter slowly died, and she dabbed at her mouth with her napkin and composed herself, steadying her breath, before calling out. "Please come in."

The Knight came to stand at attention, as it was proper to do, next to the Princess in a protective stance. He quickly relaxed when he saw who it was – Commander Autor – then tensed back up just as quickly when he saw his expression. "What is it, Commander Autor?!"

Autor straightened and stared into the Princess and Knight's faces with some difficulty. He licked his lips, then spoke. "Lady Edel has committed suicide."

Rue's fork dropped onto her plate, and she gave a silent scream, her lips parting. Just as quickly, her hand came up to cover her mouth with the napkin.

Fakir's hand went to her shoulder. "What are you talking about?! I spoke to her not an hour ago!"

"It seems that, just minutes ago – " Autor's gaze dropped to the floor. "Lady Edel climbed to the top of the clock tower, and jumped. The doctors tried to resuscitate her, but… it was hopeless."

"_I am sorry. I cannot allow myself to be taken as a witness. I have told what I know; I leave it up to you what you do with the knowledge."_

Fakir swallowed and placed his other hand on Rue's shoulder.

"She's dead?" Rue murmured.

"I am afraid so, Your Majesty." Autor's voice was but a whisper.

Fakir's mind turned. First his love, now Lady Edel… He was reminded of the Pink Maiden's light-hearted smile, and Lady Edel's wise eyes… _They're both gone. Both no longer of this Earth._

Several moments of slow silence passed.

"…She must be given a grand burial. Send out announcements at once. Tell everyone that an official week of mourning is in place for the death of Lady Edel." Rue's hands slowly twisted the napkin in her lap. "I'll see to the arrangements myself first thing tomorrow morning." Her eyes hardened, and her tone became icy. "And I want whoever was on watch at the clock tower thrown into the dungeons immediately. Their failure to keep the clock tower clear is an abomination."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Autor bowed. He made to leave, then halted and turned back to Fakir. "Sir, if there is something I could speak to you about…"

Fakir looked at Rue, who nodded at him.

Fakir followed Autor out of the room to the opposite end of the hall. Autor turned to him, his eyes full of an odd steel.

"I didn't think it proper to mention it to the Princess immediately after…." Autor took a deep breath. "What happened to Lady Edel. I was hoping you could pass it along to her, the Princess, when the shock isn't as fresh."

Fakir nodded. "I understand."

Autor's brow furrowed. "I'll get right to the heart of the matter. The situation with the White Kingdom has become dire. Negotiations are at a standstill."

The Knight's heart skipped a beat. "What are our options?"

"In all honesty? We have next to none left, Sir. The White Kingdom has 3 for every 2 of our soldiers. We can't out bluff them, and we can't overpower them. It might be time to consider… what our contingency plans are."

The Knight grit his teeth. "I shouldn't have let things get to this point. If I would've – "

"Sir?" The Commander's expression was questioning. "With all due respect, this was none of your doing."

The Knight's face became withdrawn. "But it was. I should've kept Rue in line…" _I should've stood up to her. I could've halted her spiral into self-destruction._

"No one can keep her in line." Autor's expression softened. "Trust me on that. But there's another hitch that makes the idea of resistance seem almost impossible."

"And what's that?" _How could things get any worse, any more hopeless, than they are now?!_

"It's suspected that several hundred of our citizens are arming themselves with the White Kingdom."

Fakir was speechless.

"They are, and I quote, 'sick of the horrific treatment received at their ruler's hands,' and thus are starting a revolt of their own to assist the White Kingdom's plan for a coupe."

"They're insane!" Fakir hissed. "They're not even familiar with the White Kingdom. How do they know they will treat them any better?!"

"I didn't say it made sense. But, Fakir…" Autor's expression saddened. "What do you plan to do?"

Fakir was silent. He was backed into a corner, and everyone knew it. He had sworn to protect the Princess, his little sister; he would fulfill that vow. She was the only person left that he cared about.

_I will fulfill my vow. I will keep you safe, Rue._

"I need your support, Autor." Fakir's gaze burned into Autor's. "Are you with us?"

Autor's gaze flitted to the room where Rue remained. "Always."

Several tense minutes later, Fakir returned to the room where he'd left Rue. Glancing around the room, he began to panic – she was nowhere to be found.

Then he heard a quiet sob, and he slowly went around the table. She was slumped on the floor, dress skirting out around her. Her dark hair hid her face, but he didn't need to see it to know how she felt. He sat next to her and put his arm around her.

"She was like a mother," she finally hiccupped. "I can't believe she'd abandon us like this. How dare she?!"

"I know."

"I can't believe it. I'll never forgive her! Never!" Rue's sobs slowly subsided. She brushed her hair back and wiped her face dry. "What did Autor want?"

"He wanted to discuss our options."

"Options?"

The Knight helped the Princess to her feet. "You're aware that the White Kingdom has prepared to invade our kingdom?"

"Yes. Yes, I was aware of that," she snapped, straightening her skirt.

"Our negotiations have failed."

Rue's eyes grew wide. "What do we do now?"

"We have no other options. We're no match for their army. We must evacuate the city while we still can."

"Just the city?! We might as well evacuate the whole country if they're invading!"

"Autor told me that their forces have only gathered at the border just outside this city."

Rue stared into Fakir's face. "So they're only planning to sack the city?" The last rays of sunlight lit her eyes, but didn't warm the shock in them. "Then it is true. They're coming… just to kill me."

"I know this might not be the best time, but he told me something else that I think you need to hear. He said it would be useless to resist because –"

"Our own people are allying with their army."

Fakir was surprised. "How did you know?"

Rue smirked, a hint of her old insolence touching her lips. "I'm still the Princess, brother. I know all that goes on in the kingdom." She stood. "I will prepare myself for the surrender…"

"No, you will not." Fakir took her wrist. "I won't let you."

Rue's gaze settled on the sunset. "I'm about to lose my kingdom, and all I've ever known… I've nothing left to live for," she whispered.

"Are you delusional?! Look around! You're not even full grown yet! So what if you can't force a kingdom to slave away for you?! You can still live and be happy!" He took Rue's face in hands.

"Where will I go?! What will I do?! The whole country and the White Kingdom will search for me!"

Fakir released her. "I spoke to Autor. He'll help you escape."

Rue's face became colorless with rage. "I WILL DO NO SUCH THING!"

"LISTEN TO ME!" Fakir roared. The room fell still and silent. Rue's eyes, wide, searched his face.

"I swore…" Fakir's voice caught. "I swore I would protect you. My whole life you've been there, the only constant, the person I'm closest to… You're my sister, damn it! And I won't watch you die for this. That's foolishness!"

"And what you're proposing is any better?! Running won't help things! They'll come after me regardless…"

"…which is why I'm going to take the blame."

The silence seeped back in as Rue absorbed his words. Then she snapped.

She screamed and threw over the table. The dishes went flying, shattering and smashing on the wood floor. "NO! I WILL NOT ALLOW IT! I WILL NOT LET YOU TAKE THE BLAME!"

"Autor is already preparing your transportation away. I won't let you die here."

Heaving, Rue glared at him. "How dare you! I am the Princess! I am supposed to stay with the castle, for better or worse!"

Fakir took Rue's hands. "You mean the world to me. And I will not watch you die."

Rue's face crinkled into tears once more. "You would force me to watch you die instead?"

"If it means keeping you safe. And besides, who said you have to watch?!"

The tears pooled in Rue's eyes until finally they overflowed. Exhausted, she sighed. "I don't understand, Fakir… I may be your sister, but I have ruined your land and stained your name. I forced you to kill the woman you love, and therefore also alienated you from your friend. So why is it now that you insist on taking my place?"

Fakir hugged her. "Don't you see, Rue? You're all I have left. And…"

_You are the Princess, and I am the Knight._


	3. Knight of Evil

_There was tension in the air as Fakir tied the cape about his sister's shoulders. She looked about anxiously, her hands touching this and that – a painting, an antique plate – trying to remember every inch of her home. "Are you certain, brother? Are you sure you want to go through with this?"_

_ "Yes." Fakir finished knotting the ribbon. "There. I'm sorry that you can't take much."_

_ "It doesn't matter to me. All the possessions, the things... They mean nothing compared to the people I'm leaving behind."_

_ Fakir didn't reply, just smiled as he straightened her hood. "You're all set."_

_ Autor entered. "We have a message from the rebel and White Army forces, Your Majesty, sir."_

_ "What is it?" Rue asked, looking at him._

_ "They're giving us until sunrise tomorrow to surrender. After that, they'll invade by force."_

_ "That doesn't leave us much time…" Rue fretted._

_ "It'll be enough." Fakir nudged her towards Autor. "Are they ready, Autor?"_

_ "Yes. We have guards waiting to smuggle the Princess past the city walls. After that, she'll take a carriage to the north-west woods. There are several safe spots out there, and it's secluded. She won't be found easily."_

_ "Good." Fakir ruffled his sister's hair. "Get going, then."_

_Rue looked back uncertainly as Autor put his arm around her waist and began to lead her away. The only home, the only family, she'd ever known was about to be far behind her. Fakir smiled reassuringly at her. "I'll see you soon."_

_ "I'll see you soon." _It had been a lie, and yet Fakir couldn't help but feel that there was some truth to it.

Hands shoved Fakir roughly into the carriage. He allowed them to drag and push him around – there was no longer any reason to fight. He wasn't present; his eyes were hazy and his expression strangely calm and content. Rue would be safe by now; she would be far away, unable to witness the coming horror the mob surely had planned.

The carriage jerked and bumped over the cobblestone road through the town. At either side of him sat a guard who clutched his arms tight, ensuring he wouldn't get away. He could hear the rages and rants of the people outside as they saw him.

"Look at that bastard go to his death! Not so grand now, are you?!" A drunken rioter screamed.

_They're ignorant… And yet, how can I blame them for wanting revenge?_

_ "It was all my doing," he had declared before a court of rebel and White Kingdom leaders. "I influenced her and told her what to do. The Princess was my puppet – she carried out what I told her to do. She's worthless, nothing. Weak and spineless. It was my kingdom; not hers!"_

_ And then they'd taken him and drug him back to the castle. Ransacked as it was, the soldiers jeered and laughed at him._

_ "A little lipstick, eh?! You wanted to be the Princess, right?! Now, lucky you…"_

"… you'll go to your death as one!"

_ They had forced him into his sister's finest dress – red wine, trimmed with black feathers – and threw makeup haphazardly on his face, laughing the whole time._

_ "How mighty you were; how far you've fallen!"_

_ "I'll enjoy watching the guillotine slice through your neck!"_

The guillotine… _They already have the guillotine set up?_ Fakir pondered. _So they did come here looking for blood._

_ I'm sorry it came to this, Prince. _The White Prince's brilliant smile came to mind; then the Pink Maiden's; then Lady Edel's stoic, calm eyes. _My Maiden; Edel…_ I'll see you soon.

The Prince… The roaring of the crowd along the street didn't hinder the memories that flooded his mind.

He'd met the Prince not long ago. Rue had caught sight of the Prince during a summit attended by various leaders of faraway lands – and the Prince had been one of them. She'd been smitten at first sight, and asked her brother to go undercover to the White Kingdom and gather information on the Prince for her.

"I must know more about him," she had said. And with that, she'd asked Fakir to go to the White Kingdom and seek him out. "I want to know what he's like. Do that for me, won't you brother?"

So Fakir had gone, spending a few days on figuring out where the Prince liked to go – the restaurants he ate it, the inns he frequented… Each spot was a no-show. Finally, one evening at a tavern when he was about to get up, a young man in a long cloak and hood sat next to him. Fakir had looked up from his ale in surprise.

"It's quite cold out," the man had laughed, brushing his bangs back under his hood. "I'm surprised my horse made it this far without stopping."

Fakir had nodded and turned back to his bottle.

"I mean, after all, this has been quite the harsh winter. Not as bad as last year's, though. The palace lost thirty head that year when the cattle's breath froze over their own noses. Unpleasant way to go."

Fakir had begun to lose his patience. "May I ask who's speaking to me?"

"Call me Mytho." The young man grinned easily at him. Fakir had started then – the young man had white hair and lovely brown eyes. He radiated good will, and Fakir slowly relaxed.

"Fakir."

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise." _I guess._

They'd gotten to talking, and Fakir soon found himself completely at ease with Mytho. The hours passed, but they took no notice. They discussed everything – the economy, the year's crops, life itself. The topic of family soon came up, and Mytho asked, "What about you, Fakir? Got any siblings?"

Fakir had grinned then. If only Mytho knew. "…Yeah, I've got a little sister. She can be the sweetest thing, but she has a pretty bad temper."

"Tell me about it. I had an older sister myself." Mytho took a sip of his wine.

"Had?" Fakir's eyebrows rose.

"She died of pneumonia when I was nine."

"Oh." Fakir's gaze drifted. "I'm… sorry to hear that."

"It's not your fault."

In a weak attempt to change the subject, Fakir asked, "What about your parents?"  
"I was a surprise, so by the time I was born, they weren't very young anymore. My dad died two years ago, and my mom's mind isn't what it used to be. I've been running the… family business for a while now."

_We're on a similar boat, then. At least, when it comes to that. _"My parents are gone, too. I can't say I miss them much, though. They weren't very close to me or my sister."

Mytho's eyes flashed to his. "You didn't love them?"

Fakir set down his bottle. "Love… wasn't part of the equation." He stared at the torchlight that danced off the glass bottle. "We were treated more like basic heirs rather than family."

"That's too bad. I can't imagine growing up without my parents like that." Mytho waved the bartender over and set some coins on counter. "For me and him."

Fakir was surprised once more. "You don't need to pay for me."

"I want to. It's been a long time since… I've been able to speak to another guy like this. It's refreshing." Mytho tucked his hood more securely about him and draped his cape back over his body.

Fakir watched him, mystified. His sixth sense was tingling, and he couldn't figure out why. "It's been refreshing for me as well… Though I get the feeling I'm speaking to someone more than merely 'Mytho.'"

Mytho smiled – a grin full of good humor. "Funny – I got the same feeling speaking to you, 'Fakir.'" He got off his seat. "But you're a good-hearted guy, Fakir – even if you're a bit crusty for a young man." He paused. "It's Prince Mytho. I usually go by the White Prince."

Fakir's wrist twitched. He'd been speaking to the White Prince the whole time?!

"Farewell, friend." Mytho smiled and held his hand out to Fakir. Still in shock, the Knight stared at it blankly before remembering what he was supposed to do. He took it, and they shook hands.

As the White Prince turned away, Fakir couldn't help but say – "I'm Knight Fakir. Brother to Princess Rue of the Red Kingdom."

The Prince turned back to him and smiled. "I hope we can be friends for a long time to come… Prince Fakir."

The Prince left, and on impulse, Fakir had gotten up and went after him, watching discreetly from the doorway. The Prince hitched up a horse, and just as Fakir thought he was about to leave…

…A girl came from a nearby cabin, wearing a long, white hooded cloak that matched the Prince's. Fakir froze. Who was this?

The Prince helped her onto the horse before climbing on himself. The Prince took up the reins, and called for the horse to start. Fakir watched, perplexed, as they rode away.

And then, at the last minute, the girl looked back at the village. Her eyes met Fakir's – the way they sparkled, blue and lively, among the falling snowflakes – and she smiled warmly.

Fakir's heart had skipped a beat.

When he returned to the kingdom to report his findings to Rue, she had seemed oddly displeased. Fakir couldn't understand why as the Prince was, in his opinion, everything a young man ought to be. But then Rue revealed what was on her mind – "While you were at the White Kingdom, did you ever see the Prince in the company of a maiden with pink hair, dressed in white?"

Fakir was taken back by this. "Why would you ask?"

"Yes or no?" Rue's long fingers pulled and twisted a laced handkerchief. Her expression had been coldly vacant.

"Yes… Well, I'm not certain. When I met him at the tavern, he departed with a young woman about our age… She had blue eyes, and wore a white cloak. I didn't see her hair. Why are you asking?"

"I have heard rumors that the Prince has been seen escorting such a young lady to several balls and formal affairs." Rue's voice had been icy. "That's not good. Not good at all." Her eyes rose to meet Fakir's. "I heard that there will be another grand ball held at an estate near the border between our kingdoms. There is an inn nearby that the Prince will be staying at, not ten miles outside the border."

Fakir's heart began to pound. His hands began to tingle and grew damp. He clenched them into fists, trying to squeeze away his unease.

"Of course, we can assume that this… 'maiden' will be joining him at some point."

_No. No, don't ask me to…_

"Fakir?"

_I won't! How can you ask me to – even think to ask this of me – to…_

Rue's eyes rose to his. "Fakir?"

"Yes?" His heartbeat was a roar in his ears.

"I'd like you to go to this inn. I want you to wait until you're sure that the maiden is there. And when you are certain she's alone…"

His eyes had begun to sting.

"…I want you to get rid of her."

Fakir didn't let the memories go any further then. He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, the taste and pain distracting him and breaking the rush in his head.

Even when the train of the thought had been broken, though, the memory of the Prince's vivid smile remained. _"I hope we can be friends for a long time to come… Prince Fakir."_

_I hoped so too, Mytho,_ Fakir thought numbly. _And yet, I've done nothing but bring you pain. You showed me good will, and I fueled my sister's obsession with you. You trusted me, and I murdered the girl you loved._

But… you also said you understood why I did it. Even after all that… you still found the kindness in yourself to say that. I don't understand.

I'm sorry, Mytho.

"We're here." The carriage halted, and the guards kicked open the doors and yanked Fakir out. His eyes adjusted to the brightening morning…

The guillotine was just a block away.

* * *

"Here!" Autor ushered Rue down another alley. At the other end were royal guards waiting for them, disguised as White Army officers. "Just a few more blocks to go," he murmured to her.

"I'm not afraid," she muttered back. "This wasn't my idea."

Autor halted, and so did Rue. "You don't know what you mean to him."

"I'm his sister, but I'm also… not nice." She didn't meet Autor's eyes. "I ought to be the one going to the guillotine."

"He's not the only person who cares about you."

Rue blanched.

"Come on, we don't have much time!" Autor took her hand and pulled her along once more.

There was a distant roar of a crowd, and Rue halted once more. "What's that?!"

Autor didn't look at her. "The crowd that's gathered to watch the execution, I'd guess."

Rue's hands grew clammy. "They really believed his pathetic excuse?!" She yanked out of Autor's grasp.

"Where are you going?!"

Rue sprinted to the tallest building nearby and bashed open the wood door with her arms.

"Rue, stop!"

"No! I must…" _I must see this to believe it for myself._

"What do you mean to do?!"

Rue didn't answer, just dashed up the staircase to the highest level. She halted inches from the window facing the city's plaza –

She threw open the shutters.

Early morning sunlight poured in in shades of light orange and gold. The birds were chirping, but the rest of the city was eerily quiet… Save for the distant clamor coming from the plaza.

The first thing Rue noticed was the wooden platform in the middle of the square. There was a tall, slim contraption on top of it… The guillotine.

The guillotine. She grabbed the windowpane to keep herself upright.

"Your Majesty, perhaps this isn't such a good idea –"

"No. I have… to see this."

"But why?"

_ Why? So I can understand what's happening. So I can know for sure that I will soon be truly alone. And… Because I can't let him leave without anyone who cares around. I… I have to watch._

* * *

"Your Majesty." The lieutenant knelt before the Prince. "A message has arrived from our forces in the Red Kingdom."

The White Prince looked up from pulling on his overcoat. "Yes, lieutenant? What is it?"  
"The invasion has gone as planned. The revolutionary forces from the Red Kingdom are cooperating fully, and are proving to be excellent allies."

"Good."

"And you'll be pleased to hear…" The lieutenant looked up. "That the ruler of the Red Kingdom is in custody."

The White Prince paused. "So soon?!"

"They surrendered."  
"Surrendered?!" The Prince thought of Princess Rue. "I didn't take her for the type to surrender… But it will make things easier."  
"Her, sir?" The lieutenant's brow furrowed. "The ruler is male."

The Prince halted. "Pardon?"  
"Prince Fakir revealed that he had been pulling the strings all along. The Princess is nowhere to be found, and with the Prince's confession, they have decided to execute him in her place."

The Prince's face drained of all color. He quickly regained himself. "Stop the execution at once!" He hurried to buckle his boots. "The Knight is innocent."

The lieutenant hesitated. "There is no way to get a message to the city in time, your Majesty."

Silence fell over the room.

The Prince's fist slammed into the wall. "NO!"

* * *

The people screamed and jeered at Fakir as he made his way to the platform. The skirt's train was long and ruffled, but he never once tripped or faltered. This, however, just gave the taunting more fuel.

"Look at how he walks! Wear dresses a lot, Knight?!"

"Cross-dressing fool!"  
"Die!"

They screamed and screamed, raged and raged, but Fakir kept his head high. This won't last much longer.

Then he was standing before a row of the White Army leaders.

"Prince Fakir, you stand today at sunrise to be executed under order of the White Army. The execution is your payment for the following crimes…"

They read a short piece of parchment that listed his crimes. "… Dishonest representation, unfair taxation, terrorization of the general public, numerous unwarranted deaths, and abundant abuses of executive powers."

Fakir said nothing.

"Let the execution commence."

The crowd roared its loudest then, their voices raising up about the buildings and houses and making the very ground tremor.

"Those are all my crimes. MY crimes!" Rue whispered hoarsely, her grip on the windowpane tightening.

A guard led Fakir to the steps of the platform and pushed him forward. Alone, Fakir ascended the stairs. The faces of the crowd became increasingly crazed with excitement and bloodlust.

The executioner waited for him at the guillotine. Fakir knelt and the executioner pushed his head through the guillotine's opening. Dazed, he stared out at the crowd. The longer he watched them, the quieter they seemed to grow…

A basket was placed in front of the guillotine, just below his chin. He paid it no heed.

The executioner went to him and undid his ponytail. His dark hair fell in musky waves about his neck. Seeing the obstacle, the executioner parted it from his neck and pushed it to the front of his shoulders. Then the executioner stood back and took the rope of the guillotine.

_Once upon a time, there was a princess and a knight._

**_He seems so calm._**

_I apologize that we must part like this._

**_I'm sorry that it's you and not me._**

_You don't need to worry for me._

_ I'll always worry for you. I'm your older brother – that's my job. And it's what I want to do. To always take care of you… But this time, to save you, I must give up my ability to protect you in the future. Please stay safe._

Rue's face grew increasingly pale. She began to sway, and Autor started forward to catch her – she raised a hand to tell him to stay back.

_Remember that song from the old fairy tale?_

_ I believe it went something like this…_

"Does the Knight have anything to declare?" A White Army officer asked him.

Fakir swallowed. Tears began to pour down his face…

"The bastard cries! Bloody coward!" One man shrieked, and those around him laughed in agreement.

But he didn't respond, didn't even look at them. _Rue… do you remember that song?_ He drew in a wavering breath. _Will you hear me?_

Then, to the quieting mob, he began to speak.

"You are the princess, and I am the knight. Siblings torn and bonded by duty. In order to protect you, I will do anything – even become tainted."

The crowd fell silent. Their faces grew solemn, as the shift in Fakir's tone registered.

Rue was stunned. _He – he's singing that song! That song…_ A gasp escaped from her. _From the fairy tale we read when we were small._ She buried her face in her hands.

"You are the princess, and I am the knight. As your older brother, I'll always guide and protect you. You are the only connection I've left to the earth."

The expressions went from giddy to sorrowful and shocked as his words relayed to them the true dilemma of the kingdom's royalty.

"So now I can only hope… that on the day we are reborn, we might play again." He rose his face to the sun, now high in the sky. The white light lit the tears that framed his cheekbones, and added to the sense of calm in his expression.

_I'll see you soon, Rue._

_I love you._

The officer motioned to the executioner, and the executioner released the rope.

Blocks away, there was a blood-curdling scream. Rue screamed and screamed, over and over again, as Autor pulled her away from the window.


	4. Marionette

"I'm so sorry, your Majesty." Once more, the lieutenant knelt before the White Prince, bowing her head. "…We managed to recover Prince Fakir's body. We will give him a grand burial."

The Prince did not reply, apparently lost in thought. He stood at the window of the fort with his back to her, staring out into the bright day. The sunlight did not touch the inside of the room, and the walls and floors resonated a still, gloomy darkness. Finally, without moving, he spoke.

"Did you know that the King and Queen of the Red Kingdom have been missing for almost three years?"

"Your Majesty?" The lieutenant rose her head slightly in confusion.

"They disappeared two months after Princess Rue turned fourteen."

The lieutenant didn't answer, waiting for the Prince to continue.

"More accurately, they disappeared the night before they were to make a contract with a foreign King to betroth his son to Princess Rue. No one has seen them since."

Silence fell over the room. The lieutenant didn't know how to respond.

Finally, the Prince turned from the window. The white sunlight caught the tearstains on his emotionless face and made his white hair glow with an unearthly aura.

The lieutenant didn't shirk, but her gaze fell. She'd never seen the Prince cry, and now, it felt wrong to look at him in this state.

"We must find the Princess." The White Prince's tone was ice cold and closed off. "We must find her as soon as possible." He began to walk past the lieutenant…

"Your Majesty." The lieutenant stood.

The Prince halted. He did not turn to look at her.

The lieutenant paused slightly before starting again. "Your Majesty, I know these past few days have been hard on you – hard on all of us. But…"

…

"Is it really worth starting a war over a single maiden?"

For several moments, there was nothing but the distant sound of birds calling outside. Then the White Prince replied.

"She took more than a fiancée from me."

The Prince continued on his way. "Please gather the rebel officers and inform them of these latest events, won't you, lieutenant Pique?" Then he was gone, his cape billowing out behind him.

The lieutenant remained standing, the darkness enveloping her. The lieutenant; the neutral observer, actions tied with that of the White Prince's. Her job was not to make key decisions and actions, but to carry out the wishes of the Prince. And yet, a marionette as she was, she would not allow herself her only freedom – that of forming her own inner opinions and thoughts. Thoughts about the death of the Pink Maiden, who had been her best friend. Thoughts about the Knight, whom she'd been infatuated with as a little girl. And thoughts about the White Prince himself, who she would not let herself think about her feelings for.

A single tear slowly made its way down her stoic face. Even crying, she would not show a change in expression nor heart. But she finally allowed herself to begin to ponder the recent events, and her eyes did not leave the window where the Prince had stood.

_Princess of Red, you have killed our Prince._

The tear slowly made its way down to her chin.

* * *

I just had to upload this because I loved how it turned out and didn't want to wait to post it :) Rereading this, I actually found this sadder for me personally than Fakir's death. I started tearing up actually, which was funny because I hardly start crying over my own writing.

Chronologically, this is AFTER the next chapter. I might get around to fixing the order eventually... :)

Keep reading, my friends. ;)


	5. The Escape of Evil

"Let go of me! LET GO OF ME!" She tore wildly out of his grasp. "LET GO!"

"Rue, you can do nothing for him! We need to get you out of the city before they do the same to you!"  
The crowd surrounding the guillotine began to look in the direction of the tall house they were in. Murmurs began to sound…

"Run, Rue!" Autor shoved her towards the stairs. Together, they fled out of the house to the guards in disguise. The clatter of the gathering at the square began to move their way…

"Take her!" Autor pushed her into the grasp of the guards. "You remember where to go?"  
"The catacombs under the city, sir," said one of the guards.

"Right. The carriage should be not a half mile out! Now get going, already!" He swept back towards the houses. "I'll feed them some more lies…"

Rue's hand reached out and caught his sleeve.

Autor turned to look at her.

"Autor… I… I don't understand you." Rue's grip on him loosened. "Why?! Why must you all die for me?!" Her voice rose sharply. "Do you think I want to live in a world without all of you –

Autor gathered her into his arms and held her. Rue froze, stiff, unsure of how to react – Then he released her, and it was all over.

"We don't need a reason, Rue. You're too adorable." Autor smiled wryly.

Rue's brow furrowed, her lips quivering. "After all this time, that's the only thing you can think of to say?!" But she was all too aware that the waver in her voice considerably softened the sharpness she intended.

His smile broadened, then he was sprinting away. "Get her out of here now!" He shouted to the guards over his shoulder.

The guards took her by the hand and ran with her, their feet clattering on the cobblestone. Breathless, Rue looked back only once. Autor was gone, and the sound of the crowd approaching grew louder by the second –

"In here!" The guards kicked down the door of a cottage and hauled aside a table, revealing a trap door. One guard pulled up the door while the other bolted the door behind them. "Quickly, Your Majesty!" They led her down into a narrow dirt tunnel, closing the trapdoor above them.

Inside the tunnel it was dark and dull. There was no light to see by, and the ground was nothing but packed dirt. Rue coughed and sputtered. Invisible dust and cobwebs caught and flew about the trio as they rushed through the cramped space.

Overhead, there was a violent rumble. The guards paused for only a moment before they continued to usher Rue along. "They're getting closer," one murmured to the other. Rue's heartbeat was a hammer in her ears.

"Now listen, Your Majesty," one of the guards began in a rush. "This tunnel leads us outside the city. As Autor explained, there is a carriage waiting to take you to the north-west woods, where there is an Inn. The hostess and owner of the Inn is a sergeant in our own royal army, and her and her husband will give you a safe place to stay."

"Right," Rue gasped as she stumbled over a large stone on the ground.

"We should be nearing the exit…"

Rue looked up. A sliver of gray light was visible in the distance…

Then they came to a grinding halt, and the guards were reaching upwards. They lifted another trapdoor, and a rope ladder came tumbling down. "After you, Your Majesty," the guards boosted her up. From far behind in the decrepit tunnel came a glow of torchlight…

Rue climbed up quickly, and a hand came down to pull her up. "Your Majesty," a man in the uniform of a carriage driver greeted her.

"Get a head start now, while you can," the guards addressed him.

_ Why do they act as though I'm helpless?_

"Princess Rue, good luck." Then the guards slipped out of the house and were gone.

"Shall we be going then, Princess Rue?" the carriage driver asked, tightening his hat about his forehead.

A distant thunder rose, and the carriage driver peered out the nearby window. He paused, and then spoke. "Probably going to want to tighten and lower that hood some about your face, though."

Rue went to the window cautiously. In the distance, shapes were appearing on the horizon. She squinted in puzzlement – then her eyes widened. The thunder was that of a hundred horses and knights of the White Kingdom, galloping towards the city.

_ Are they… Are they here for __**me**__?_

Then Rue's hand went to the belt about her waist and produced a hunting knife. She examined it for a moment, turning it about in her hand and watching the white light catch its smooth surface.

"Princess?" The carriage driver sounded anxious.

Rue didn't reply. Her grip on the knife's handle tightened.

_ No. I can't give up now. Not after all of the sacrifices they made just to keep me safe… Fakir, Autor, Edel… It will not be in vain._

_ I am not helpless._

Rue lowered her hood, shook out her hair.

The blade of the knife came slicing at her –

The carriage driver cried out and reached out –

With two swift blows, Rue's long hair fell in waves and locks to the floor. Once sure that her dark hair, of which she'd been so proud, was shortened to an unrecognizable length, she sheathed the knife once more.

The carriage driver fell back, though the shock didn't leave his face.

"Maybe I'm a little less recognizable now, hm?" Rue ran her hands through her hair, roughing it up. "And my clothes are quite plain." Her voice was emotionless. She pulled her hood back up. "Let us go."

She passed the stunned driver and settled into the carriage. Regaining himself, he sprinted after her and took up the reins. Settling onto his bench, he turned back to Rue. "You may want to close the curtains a bit, Princess."

He snapped the reins, and the horses charged off. They ran into the forest, heading away from the cloud on the horizon.

Rue braced herself inside the rickety carriage and drew the curtains slightly together. The thick curtains shut out all light except for a block of solid white that threw bleached squares onto her lap.

The thunder of the horses grew closer and ear-splittingly loud. Rue's hands came up to shelter her ears.

Then the clamor and vibrations of the hundreds of animals passed.

The carriage came to a halt, and Rue chanced a peek outside.

A single horse and knight had spotted them, and had forced them to halt. He dismounted and strode towards the carriage…

Rue's heart began to pound, and in an effort to slow it, she held her breath.

"What do you have here?"

"Just a traveler."

"No one is to leave the city, under order of the White Kingdom. Were you not aware of this?"

"No, sir."

"Of course not. Why don't you show me what kind of traveler you're carrying, exactly?"

Rue heard the carriage driver dismount, and she bunched the fabric of her skirt tightly into her hands.

The sound of footsteps came to the door of the carriage, and paused. Then the carriage driver drew open the door slightly, and Rue stared out into the light.

The carriage driver pursed his lips and moved to the side. The knight, in his thick metal armor, took his place. He looked quizzically at Rue.

"A stable boy?" The light did not touch her skirt.

Rue did not answer.

"He's frightened, sir. As he should be," the carriage driver hurried to make excuses. "But please, don't hurt him. He worked in the palace, and is on his way to be with relatives…"

"Is that so?" The knight sighed and stepped back. "Well, I'd get a move on if I were you. At first glance, this looks awfully suspicious…" He threw another glance at Rue before striding back to his horse and mounting. "Good day to you."

Then he was gone.

Rue's body finally relaxed, and she exhaled.

The carriage driver rocked on his heels, watching the knight depart. Then he sighed and looked back at Rue. "Better keep those curtains closed, eh?" He straightened his hat. "Not that it'll do any good, and yet…" He climbed back onto his seat, and the horses resumed their gallop.

Rue fell back against the seat of the carriage, relieved beyond words. Her hands shook, and she pulled mindlessly at her skirt.

The jolt of the carriage soon faded into background noise, and her head drooped. She was tired, but couldn't bring herself to close her eyes… Whenever she did, she only saw the faces of those she'd never meet again.

Fakir. Autor. Edel.

Her eyelids lowered steadily despite the rush in her head.

_ Fakir. Autor. Edel_.

Tears fell onto her lap.

_ Stay with me. Protect me. Don't… leave me yet._

I won't let your sacrifice be a waste.

_ She drew her knees up to her chest, and did not move for a very long time._


End file.
